


Beg Me

by Jude81



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Begging and pleading, Consensual Sex, F/F, Poor clarke is tied up, Smut, dominant lexa, safe word, strap-on sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude81/pseuds/Jude81
Summary: Lexa dominates Clarke. Really that is all you need to know.





	Beg Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katie223](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie223/gifts).



> This is for Katie to fulfill a bet I lost a loooooooong time ago. Sorry it took so long!

 

 

“No more, Leska, I can’t!” Clarke could barely see from the sweat stinging her eyes, and she rubbed her face in the furs, trying to dry herself as much as possible. Her muscles shook, and she was exhausted. She had lost count of how many times she’d come after four. She was pretty sure she was on seven, or maybe eight? All she knew was her skin was overly sensitive, her muscles were heavy with fatigue and pressure, and she was done. Done. Except Lexa wasn’t done.

 

Lexa smiled, her hands firmly gripping Clarke’s hips. She admired the downward slope of the younger girl’s back. She marveled at the drops of sweat that dripped down her spine to her neck. She could feel Clarke’s body shake, and she let her gaze drift across blushing, glistening skin. Her lips twitched when she saw the light ropes that held Clarke in position, on her knees with her face pressed into the furs, her arms stretched above her shoulders. She was in the perfect position, a willing supplicant.

 

“Sha, Klark,” her teeth clicked hard on the k, and she smirked at the small shiver that rippled up the girl’s spine. “You can, and you will. Just one more.”

 

Lexa hesitated a moment, her hands gently caressing the red hand painted curves of Clarke’s bottom. “Do you remember the word? The one that makes me stop?”

 

She waited, and when Clarke nodded her head, she gutted lightly under her breath. “No, Klark, say it out loud, so I know that you remember.”

 

“Faya,” muttered Clarke, her voice dry and scratchy. She licked her lips, trying to moisten them, as she was convinced all moisture in her body had flowed south to meet at the juncture of her thighs. 

 

“You remember that I won't stop no matter how you beg and plead, unless you say  _ faya?” _

 

Clarke grunted and whispered, “I remember.” And she resolved not to say it, despite knowing she would soon be begging Lexa to stop. There was something desperate, but freeing in the realization that she could wail and scream and beg, and Lexa would still command her body, dragging her orgasms from her with almost brutish tenderness; but one word would end it all, and Lexa would be stripped of her power. 

 

She wiggled her hips slightly, readying her tired and aching muscles, knowing that Lexa wouldn't stop until she had wrung one last orgasm from Clarke’s shaking frame, unless Clarke said one simple word. 

 

“Good girl,” murmured Lexa as she leaned down, letting her breasts drag through the warm sweat of Clarke’s back. She placed a soft kiss at the base of the back of her neck, before straightening again, her voice becoming a little deeper, a little huskier.

 

“Do you want to use your word, Clarke?”

 

She jogged her hips forward, smiling at the way Clarke whimpered and rolled her hips despite claiming she’d had enough. 

 

“No,” the word was a little more than a strangled wheeze, and Lexa rewarded her by reaching under her hip and tapping her hard clit. She smiled at the way Clarke groaned and shuffled on her shaking knees. 

 

She pressed forward gently, aware that the girl was overly sensitive. She let her fingers press into the underside of Clarke’s hips, and her thumbs pressed soothing circles into the rounded curve of her cheeks. She smiled as she felt the head of the dildo press into the girl’s warm folds. She met some resistance, as she felt Clarke immediately clamp down on the head. She slid her hands up Clarke’s sides, letting her fingers press gently along the lattice of her ribs, as she pushed forward slightly.

 

“Lexa!” Clarke half-sobbed as she tried to push forward, away from the dildo, her resolve starting to wane. “I told you, I can’t!” Her voice wavered on the last word, and she groaned at the feel of the dildo sliding slightly inside of her. She shivered violently and whimpered. She was so tired. Her muscles were wrung out, all of her energy had gone into the last orgasm, and she had nothing left to give Lexa. But she still refused to give lexa the one word that would make it stop. 

 

Lexa tutted under her breath. She wrapped one hand firmly around Clarke’s hip, so she couldn’t escape her. She let the other hand slide down the girl’s back, whisking firmly through the sheen of sweat. “Do you trust me?” Her voice was quiet, but firm, and it broke through Clarke’s muffled murmurs.

 

Clarke turned her head so her cheek rested against the slightly damp furs. Her skin prickled, and she was uncomfortable. Her hair was stuck to her face, and she could only imagine what she must look like. She knew her skin was flushed, and she just wanted to sleep, but she couldn’t. Lexa’s voice always called to her. It held a strange sort of allure, and Clarke was sure she would follow that voice into hell itself.

 

She snuffled a little, the tears pricking at her eyelids. “Sha,” she whispered. And she heard the sharp intake of breath behind her, and she could almost see the smile that shone in Lexa’s next words.

 

“Mochof, Niron.” Lexa smiled, that familiar feeling tugging sharply at her chest, and she pressed forward, feeling Clarke’s flesh reluctantly part for her. She gripped her hip a little harder, pushing Clarke slightly away from her and then pulling her back into the cradle of her thighs. She laid her left hand on the middle of Clarke’s back, and held her firmly down, as she jogged her hips forward sharply, sheathing her cock all the way inside Clarke.

 

She rubbed gentle circles on her back when Clarke cried out, and she twisted slightly so she could see the girl’s face, red and blotchy, and she could see tears starting to run down her cheeks. She hesitated for a moment, worried she might have pushed too far, worried that Clarke really couldn’t go any further. She knew she was testing the limits of what her body was capable of, but somehow she just knew that Wanheda had one orgasm left in her, that would wring her dry, twist all of her muscles, and cloud her eyes. And she wanted it. She was Heda, and she wanted to feel her love break apart in her arms, lose herself completely.

 

Lexa held herself still for a moment, waiting for Clarke to relax, and when she felt Clarke start to sag, she withdrew her hips, pulling out all the way so just the head rested against Clarke’s entrance. 

 

And then she pushed all the way into Clarke’s sex in one smooth glide, smiling at the cry wrenched from Clarke’s chest, but she didn’t stop, instead pumping her hips in a steady rhythm. 

 

“Is this what you wanted, Klark? Hmmmm? Me inside of you, as deep as I can go?” She jogged her hips, rotating them hard, smiling at the way Clarke grunted and trembled before her.

 

“Tell me!” She commanded, her hips slapping against the back of Clarke’s thighs and bottom. “Tell me, is this what you wanted? To be tied up and laid bare, mewling like a cat in heat?” she growled the last few words, her tongue thick in her throat, waiting for an answer. 

 

She slapped her hand down hard on Clarke’s bottom, just enough to sting and make Clarke’s fair skin blush with the heat and strength of Lexa’s hand. 

 

“Tell me!” She reached around Clarke’s hip, her fingers easily finding Clarke’s hard and slippery clit. She pressed her fingers to it roughly, rubbing it hard, knowing that after so many orgasms, Clarke was starting to feel numb from over-sensitization. 

 

Clarke let out a sharp cry, tears running down her face. It hurt, and her skin was on fire. But it was exquisite, her body caught in an internal war, desperate to feel the burning buildup to release, but her body aching and overly-sensitive. 

 

She pulled on the ropes, pushing back into Lexa, trying to escape the fingers on her clit, but still searching for the heavy pressure inside of her that only Lexa could bring to fruition. 

 

“Y-yes,” she choked on the word, tears wetting her lips making them sting from the salt. 

 

“Please, Lexa. Please,” she sobbed, although she didn't know if she was begging for Lexa to stop or to never stop. 

 

Lexa smiled and gentle her fingers, lightly tracing her clit, while she jogged her hips slightly, barely pulling out. It wasn't enough to tip Clarke over the edge, and she knew it. 

 

She enjoyed the way Clarke squirmed, the way she pushed back into Lexa, searching for her, trying rub herself against Lexa’s fingers. 

 

She grasped Clarke’s hips, ignoring the girl’s cry of dismay. She pulled her cheeks apart so she could better see the dildo as she jogged her hips.

 

She stilled. “Fuck yourself on my cock, Klark. Show me how badly you want it.” 

 

It was barely more than a whisper, but Clarke heard it in her heat hazed mind, and she whimpered as she tried to leverage herself up to her knees. It was awkward as her tied wrists didn’t allow for much room, but she managed. 

 

She jerked her hips forward and then back, fumbling as she tried to find a rhythm. Her shoulders ached, and her head hung between her arms, hair sticking to her wet face.

 

It was long moments before she found a rhythm, her shoulders screaming at her as she leveraged them harshly against the strain of the rope. 

 

She could feel the heat building inside of her, coiling and crackling, as she pumped her hips, fucking herself on the dildo. But she didn't have enough strength to push herself over the edge, and she whimpered and cried gasping tears, her body buckling and straining for the last orgasm that was just out of reach. 

 

“Please. Please. Finish me,” she sobbed as her hips stuttered to a halt, and her flesh quaked and clenched around the hard dildo inside of her. 

 

Lexa leaned over and licked the sweat down her spine, smiling at the musky taste. She pulled back, satisfied that Clarke was finally ready. 

 

She maintained her grip, spreading Clarke’s cheeks and began to pump her hips. She stared down mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm of her cock disappearing into Clarke. It stirred something in her belly watching how Clarke’s red muscles grasped at the dildo, sucking it in. 

 

She could feel her own orgasm building, the base of the dildo rubbing against her own aching clit. She grit her teeth, determined not to come before Clarke. 

 

She reached up and slipped a finger into her mouth, wetting it, and letting her saliva run down it before she pressed her finger against Clarke’s smaller opening. She circled it gently teasing it open, and then pushing firmly against it. 

 

She felt Clarke stiffen. 

 

“Breathe. Just breathe.” 

 

And once Clarke had relaxed, she pushed the tip of her finger inside. “Good girl,” she murmured as she pushed in deeper and then pulled out and pushed in again. 

 

Soon she had picked up a new rhythm, alternating pumping into Clarke’s wet sex and pumping her finger between her cheeks. 

 

She smiled at the way Clarke groaned and shook, twisting her body, she mumbled and begged with words only half-formed. 

 

She could feel Clarke bearing down on her, her muscles clenching harshly around the dildo, and it was hard to pump her hips. She rotated them, grinding against the curve of Clarke’s bottom. 

 

She felt her own orgasm crash and spread through her pelvis and abdomen, and she shivered and panted, sweat dripping down her back. 

 

Clarke groaned, the tears hot against her cheeks, and every muscle shook violently. She could feel something deep inside of her, buried in the cracks of her bones push out and up, and she was too tired to identify it, to realize that this last orgasm was different from the rest. It scorched every cell of her body, and rose up from her very depths and broke across her skin. She gasped and her entire body twitched and trembled, and she couldn’t see anything, and she could barely feel herself. 

 

The friction from Lexa’s finger in her bottom grew and expanded into a ball of heat at the base of her spine. She shuddered and groaned, the pressure in her sex igniting the ball at the base of her spine she felt the flush spread up her spine like a warm blanket on a cold night, and she clenched hard around Lexa’s finger, pulling it deeper into herself. 

 

The orgasm rolled through her leaving her shaking and crying, her muscles sporadically twitching, the relief and pleasure zipping along her nerves, more than she could bear. 

 

She was floating. Higher than she’d ever been, and she smiled as her muscles stilled in warm lassitude, and she simple floated free.

 

She was dimly aware of something warm and wet scraping across her body, but she didn’t care, all she cared about was the soothing warmth that buoyed her body, and she simply let herself go. 

 

Lexa bit her lip, slightly worried at the way Clarke slumped on the bed, and she slowly withdrew from Clarke’s tight folds, smiling a little at the wet squelching sound. She pulled her finger out, dropping a soft kiss on the small gaping opening. 

 

She hopped off the bed, and quickly unbuckled the harness and tosses it to the floor near the small stand with the basin of water. She would clean it later, after she cleaned her hands. 

 

She hurried around to the side of the bed, her fingers fumbling at the knots that held Clarke’s wrists to the intricate lattice headboard. She looped the soft ropes into the lattice, before turning her attention back to Clarke. 

 

She gently rolled Clarke onto her back, smiling when she noticed the soft quirk of Clarke’s mouth, the dreamy look in her eyes. She stretched her out carefully, one arm supporting her head, while her other hand cupped her face. 

 

“Niron?” She kissed the corner of Clarke’s mouth, letting her lips linger until Clarke managed to focus on her. 

 

“Are you ok? Was it too much?” 

 

Clarke shook her head, smiling a little as she rested in Lexa’s arms. Her muscles were heavy and warm, but she was sure she was floating, buoyed on top of waves that rocked her gently. 

 

Lexa breathed a sigh a relief and gently laid Clarke back down on the bed. “Be right back,” she murmured as she placed a lingering kiss on Clarke’s cheek before pulling away. 

 

She grabbed the basin of water near the bed and carried it over to the large fireplace. The coals still glowed, and the dented pot of water hanging over the coals was warm to the touch. She set the basin down and looked at the glass vials and small pottery jars lining the mantle, her fingers skimming carefully over each one until she found the jar and vial she wanted. 

 

She peeled off the leather cloth covering the small jar and scooped out a small amount of the pink substance and put it into the basin. She poured warm water from the pot into the basin and swished it around until it began to lightly foam. 

 

She grabbed the small vial and the basin, carefully walking back to the bed, making sure not to spill any. She placed everything on the small stand and pulled a few pieces of soft cloth from the chest at the foot of the bed.

 

“Klark? Niron?” She chuckled lightly when Clarke groaned, her lips twisting into a frown. 

 

“Shusha, niron. You can sleep as soon as I clean you.” She dipped the cloth into the basin, wringing it out and began to clean Clarke, dragging the cloth along her limbs and between her breasts, removing all vestiges of her sweat. She rolled her over carefully, wiping the cloth up and down her back, and then rinsing and wringing the cloth out again. It only took a few minutes, until she was satisfied. She gently rubbed her dry, before picking up the vial. 

 

She pulled out the wooden stopper and dumped a few drops of the fragrant oil into her palms. She rubbed them together, and then ran her hands along Clarke’s wrists, wincing slightly at the red marks left by the rope. 

 

Clarke grunted and twisted away, her mind still hazy, barely aware of anything but the air hitting her newly washed body. She shivered, and felt the warmth in her limbs start to wane. 

 

“No,” she muttered as she tried to grab on to the feeling, stretch it along her bones and bury it in her muscles. She whimpered as she felt herself start to sink. It was cold, and her skin prickled. 

 

Lexa worked quickly, rubbing the soothing oil that had medicinal properties meant to help heal small cuts and inflammation into Clarke’s wrists and then along the firm globes of her bottom, which still bore the slightest pink of Lexa’s hands. 

 

“I know, I know. It’s ok, Klark. I'm here,” she murmured as she finished, and stepped away for a moment, hurrying across the room to grab the pitcher of fresh water. She poured a cup, splashing it in the process. She cursed under her breath and walked back to Clarke who was starting to grow more and more restless. 

 

She helped Clarke into a sitting position, putting the mug to her lips. “Drink.” It took a few minutes but she drank all of, splashing some that dripped down her naked chest. 

 

Clarke shivered again, her muscles trembling, tears pricking at her eyes. She could feel something empty and cold yawning open in her chest, and she burned her face into Lexa’s chest. 

 

“Make it stop.”

 

“ I will.” will lexa wrapped her in her softest blanket, kept just for this occasion, the inevitable drop. She wrapped Clarke into a cocoon and then wrapped her in her arms. 

 

“I love you. You were perfect. So beautiful and strong,” she murmured as she pressed light kisses to Clarke’s face. She was rewarded with a deep sigh from Clarke as Clarke pushed her face into the warm crook of Lexa’s neck. 

 

Lexa continued to whisper to her, soothing her and lulling her into sleep, her strong arms sheltering her from the rest of the world. 

 

The cold empty spot in Clarke’s chest was carefully stitched closed with every word Lexa whispered. 

 

And Clarke slept.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
